


The Littlest and the Ever-Young

by tehhumi



Series: B2MEM 2019 [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, F/M, Valinor, elf/vala relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 19:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehhumi/pseuds/tehhumi
Summary: Amrod didn't spend much time with the Valar the first time around. But he had six brothers to hang out with back then





	The Littlest and the Ever-Young

**Author's Note:**

> Using Amrod's Quenya name of Ambarto here, and the story in "The Peoples of Middle-earth" where he was on the ships when they burned.  
> For the prompts Crack Pairings 2: Amrod/Vana, Alternative Rock Lyrics: I’m just a girl living in captivity

When Ambarto is reborn, he doesn’t really fit in anymore. He’s the first of his brothers back, but long after most of his cousins. The Noldor who stayed in Tirion after the darkening refuse to speak to a Kinslayer. Feanor’s host awkwardly consider him both a deserter and the only available member of their ruling family. Those who crossed the Helcaraxe don’t mind him too much, but they all have Sindarin jokes and stories of epic battles that he is unable to join in. The Teleri are out for obvious reasons, and the Vanyar tend to make him feel evil for ever considering leaving.  
So Ambarto spends much of his time wandering the forests, avoiding everyone who would treat him differently. He feels closer as he walks to Tyelcormo, who had taught him woodcraft before, and Ambarussa, who reportedly was a great hunter in Beleriand.  
As time goes by, he grows used to seeing Orome’s maiar, and occasionally even Orome himself. They rarely stop to talk, but if Ambarato greets them will twitch their nose or tail in return.  
He’s walking between Formenos and the Pelori when he meets her. He had not been expecting to see anyone at all, much less one of the Valar, but on reflection it makes sense. Further south it is already summer, but here in the north Spring arrives late and rushes through in a whirlwind, as indeed Vana seems to be doing.  
“Greetings, Lady Vana. A star shines on the hours of our meeting.”  
“Oh please don’t be so formal, Varda’s always so smug that everyone references her work.”  
“Vana, then. Nice to meet you, I’m Ambarto Pityafinwe.”  
“It’s nice to meet you as well. What brings you out here? Aren’t your family all obsessed with metal work and ordering people around, which are easier done in a city?”  
Ambarto laughs. “That’s an accurate enough description, but we’re not all like that. One of my brothers used to hunt with Lord Orome, after all.”  
“Oh yes, Huan’s friend. I’d forgotten he was a prince. He’s not back yet, is he?”  
“No, none of my brothers are.”  
“Oh well, perhaps Huan will have found his way here by then.” She leaps into a tree at that, and Ambarto stands blinking.  
  
After that, Ambarto sees Vana around often. He’s not sure she’s actually nearby more, or if he’s gotten better at seeing the leaves turn towards her and the flowers bud in her wake. Their conversations are generally short, but she’s willing enough to answer his questions about the forest, and surprisingly easy to talk to. As the summer passes and draw to a close, Ambarto decides to head south - after all, one woods outside a city he’ll be scorned in is as good as another.  
  
  
One day, Ambarto brings up the thing that lies between him and the other Noldor, and his brothers when they will be permitted to return. “What’s Beleriand like?”  
“Oh, I’m hardly the best person to answer that.”  
“As one of the Valar, aren’t you supposed to be wiser and more in tune with the music of creation than us elves? The knowledge of Beleriand you could bestow on me is surely greater than that of any in Tirion.” He blows a dandelion at her face in conclusion.  
“Orome has been to Beleriand frequently, it’s how he first met your ancestors after all. Tulkas, Manwe, Varda, and Mandos all went to arrest Melkor the second time, and Ulmo spends as much time there as here. I haven’t seen it since the Years of the Lamps.”  
“Why not?”  
“There is no reason for me to go. I am not skilled in combat, and the seasons there proceed quite well without my help. Besides, the Arda is no longer in its Spring.”  
“Aren’t you curious?”  
“Desperately. The Sun helps a lot with spring, and I’ve never seen it across normal mountains, the Pelóri are too tall.” Vana sighs and flops onto her back.  
“Then why don’t you go?”  
“We all decided it was best to focus on Valinor, rather than trying to perfect all of Arda. And we shouldn’t take the Avari’s choice from them by showing up on their doorstep.”  
“I suppose that makes sense.”  
“Plus we’d be big fat hypocrites if we all crossed the Sea whenever we felt like a stroll after we Doomed you for doing it.”  
“I mean, I wasn’t going to bring that up.”  
“You weren’t?”  
“No, I’m the one who silently judges people for poor decisions and secretly works against them, Ambarussa is the one who yells at people.”  
“You can joke about that? Namo always says dying incredibly traumatic, and none are ever the same afterwards.”  
“I mean it was bad, but not the worth dwelling on for longer than a few years. Anyway, that’s not the only time I did it.”  
“Oh? When else?”  
“I mistuned Maglor harp after he told me to stop being so loud when he was trying to practice. And I made sure all the swords were sent to Formenos ahead of us.”  
“Wouldn’t it have been better to leave them behind?”  
“We’d have made more. And it stopped my father from charging Taniquetil.”  
“I kind of wish that had happened just to see the look on Manwe’s face.”  
  
They gradually settle into a sort of routine. Amabarto travels south as seen as the leaves begin to change in Formenos, and Vana speeds north as soon as the snow starts to melt. Nerdanel asks once or twice who Ambarto is meeting in the woods, but is willing to let it alone since Ambarto has found someone he can relate to.  
  
One day, Vana leans over and pecks Ambarto on the lips.  
He stammers for a minute, before managing to say, “What?”  
“Is that not what elves do when you’re courting?”  
“Well yes but - I didn’t know we were courting?”  
“We don’t have to be if you don’t wish to, but I would like it very much.”  
“I am not about to steal another’s wife.”  
“Another’s wife - oh, you mean Orome. I told him that simplifying would come back to bite us.”  
“Simplifying?”  
“When Orome first met the elves, most of them were Unbegotten, and they thought differently of marriage than you do. He asked what the word was for the person who was meant to aid in the work that Eru set before you, to bolster your strengths and balance your weaknesses, the one you saw when you first looked around Arda. They said the word was ‘spouse,’ and Orome went along with it, even though it’s not accurate. There’s no concept of the person being as important as the work, or wanting to build a life and a family with them, or desiring their touch, or even enjoying talking to them.”  
“Ah. So Orome and you are - not married?”  
“No. The two of us are connected in our work, but I don’t have any of the rest with him. I have it with you.”  
“I - want that with you too.”  
“So we’re courting then?”  
“Yes, I would like to very much.”  
“Good.”  
For their second kiss, Ambarto is composed enough to kiss back.


End file.
